


==> Zia: Accidentally Discover the Secret to Immortality

by fishprincessfeferi (larkgrace)



Series: ascend [1]
Category: Homestuck, The Kane Chronicles - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst and Humor, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, F/M, Kanestuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 14:37:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larkgrace/pseuds/fishprincessfeferi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i><b>Thief:</b></i> One who steals their aspect, or who uses their aspect as a tool to augment themselves. Cannot distribute their spoils to others, but can use their empowered self to assist their allies if they so choose.<br/><i><b>Void:</b></i> The aspect of nothingness; lack of anything. This aspect is inherently impossible to understand, as its antitheses are Light, the aspect of knowledge, and Space, the aspect of matter. Also a realm through which objects are transported outside of space and time.<br/>A <i><b>Thief of Void</b></i> is one who steals through the Void, or steals the Void itself. A fully realized Thief of Void can steal the aspect of nothingness from anything, therefore bringing it into existence.</p>
<p>You are Zia Rashid, and you would like to say two things: one, it's really only conditional immortality, and two, you would not recommend it for anyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	==> Zia: Accidentally Discover the Secret to Immortality

**Author's Note:**

> so a long time ago in a land far away, katie (musicallywritten) and i came up with a really strange crossover wherein the kane gang play sburb and. um. here's the first part, i guess?
> 
> there will be four pieces like this, one each for the kids' ascensions into godhood, in the order in which they ascend. zia's first, and sadie's next!
> 
> so, uh, yeah, enjoy.

**== > Be the Thief of Void**

No, that’s stupid. You are Zia Rashid, and you are also far too busy for these roleplaying shenanigans.

You are quite busy being attacked by a swarm of shale imps, whose sole purpose appears to be to tire you out without ever presenting you with a worthy challenge. This is wholly ridiculous, you think as you backhand one into a rock and it explodes into a pile of precious gems. You’re better than this.

You’d _like_ to wipe them all out in a wave of fire and save yourself precious time, but you’ve been having trouble with your magic ever since you entered the Medium. Your flames have been getting cooler and smaller, and you had to break a sweat just to start a campfire this morning. It’s probably just the rules of this demented game messing with you. You’ll find a way around it. Probably.

You reach for your staff and swat at another imp that launches itself at your face, and it flies back and bowls over one of its comrades. Your arms are shaking. How long have you been fighting? You’re ankle-deep in treasure and the imps just keep coming. You wish Carter was here to help you, but you haven’t seen him since this whole mess started. The last you’d heard from him, he was heading for the gate that would supposedly lead to your planet. Everyone—being the four of you—had been pleasantly surprised that your cell phones worked, and you even had Internet access, despite the fact that the cables connecting your rooms to the outside world had been severed when you were sucked into this hellhole of a game.

You’ve seen Sadie a few times, but she is spending most of her time on her own planet, absorbed with her own duties. And, of course, you see Walt every time you go to sleep now. Waking as a dream self whenever you sleep is certainly better than the usual nightmares. You can’t always remember what your dream self does while you sleep, but you’re fairly certain that it involves more fighting. Maybe that’s why you’ve been so tired lately.

You yell and manage a sputtering blue flame at the end of your staff, but apparently the imps are extremely flammable, because the fire races across their ranks and they dissolve one by one into piles of grist.

You sink onto the slab of rock behind you. It’s odd-looking, even for this freak-of-nature planet: navy blue, with a strange spiral pattern carved in the middle, perfectly flat and the perfect size for you to lay down on. Maybe you will lay down. You could use a nap.

**== > Zia: Take a permanent nap.**

You barely have time to sit up when you hear something crashing through the reeds toward you, and definitely don’t have time to reach for a weapon, when a huge basilisk leaps out of the permanent darkness and pins you to the rock.

You scream and try to summon fire, but it’s not working, so you clench your hands around the basilisk’s neck and try to keep its teeth away from your face. You tense and fling it at the nearest crumbling wall, and the basilisk vaporizes with a scream.

You breathe a sigh of relief before the temple next to you starts shaking.

You definitely don’t have time to move before the wall collapses and one of the decorative spires impales you in the chest.

**== > Narrative Focus: Switch to Walt.**

No, you idiot, the narrative focus isn’t a sentient being that you can command! Try again.

**== > Zia: Be Walt.**

You could ask nicely. She’s dying, you know.

**== > Zia: Please be a Confused Walt Stone.**

You are now a confused Walt Stone. You’re not really sure why you’re confused. It probably has something to do with the moron that’s writing down this narrative. They’re doing a pretty shitty job.

**== > Look up, dumbass.**

You look up, and—oh, yep, you’re confused, because the big blue pseudo-sun that your subconscious tells you is called Skaia is glowing even brighter than usual, and there’s a weird-looking spiral symbol in the clouds.

You watch as the glow pulses, and the clouds shimmer, and that weird spiral gets bigger and brighter. You see flickers of rainbow light arcing through the atmosphere.

Then, the lights stop, and the symbol vanishes, and Skaia goes back to its normal soft radiance, almost like someone had flipped a light switch to _off._

Your phone buzzes in your back pocket before the spots have cleared from your eyes.

\--brilliantCharmer [BC] began pestering dropdeadGorgeousgod [DG]--

BC: Did u see that?

You fumble to type a reply.

DG: yeah wasnt that you miss dayglo rainbow goddess  
BC: No stfu.  
BC: I dont kno what it was.  
DG: yeah i dunno either

Your phone beeps and alerts you to a new chat window opening.

\--teenageTombraider [TT] began pestering dropdeadGorgeousgod [DG]--

TT: Did anyone else see the clouds go insane?  
DG: yeah sades and i were just talkin about that  
DG: you know what that was about  
TT: No. Zia might. I’ll ask her as soon as I find her.  
DG: arent you on her planet by now  
TT: Yeah, but she’s not answering her phone. Probably chucked it at a wall or something.  
TT: She tends to do that when she gets mad.  
DG: go figure  
DG: thats probably a turn on for you right  
DG: her whole angry gladiator schtick  
TT: Shut up. I’m gonna go find her.

\--teenageTombraider [TT] is now and idle chum!--

You switch back over to Sadie’s window, where you see a series of increasingly impatient messages blinking at you.

BC: Im sure carter will figure it out.  
BC: Hello.  
BC: Earth to deathboy this is mission control.  
BC: Come in deathboy.  
BC: We were having a conversation.  
BC: Ffs dont make me come find u.  
DG: calm your pants i was talking to your brother  
DG: hes gonna find zia  
DG: see if she knows whats going on  
BC: Ok.  
BC: I got stuff 2 do let me kno if u figure it out.  
DG: yeah sure  
DG: later babe  
BC: Yeah ttyl loser.

\--brilliantCharmer [BC] ceased pestering dropdeadGorgeousgod [DG]--

You sigh and dig through your pocket for a rag, reaching to pull your scythe off your back. You aren’t sure why you decided to start using it to fight—probably just to go with the huge grim reaper joke that was your life as of late—but it worked well; you’d just been so busy lately that you hadn’t had time to clean the oil off the blade. You’ve just started to wipe it down when your phone beeps again.

TT: I found Zia.  
DG: and  
TT: Big problem.  
TT: She’s dead.

**== > Walt: Be Zia.**

You are now Zia, and you just woke to a flash of light and a falling sensation, and the last thing you want to do right now is die _again_ by crashing into the ground hundreds of feet below.

**== > Zia: Be pissed at whatever asshole is even writing this narrative.**

Well, _duh._

You close your eyes. You are not going to watch yourself get squished on impact. You can retain that much dignity, although quite a bit of whatever composure you had is probably gone because you’re screaming, you can’t help it, you’re falling and you don’t want to hit the ground—

And just like that, you stop.

Carefully, you dare to crack one eye open.

You’re flying. Hovering, really, maybe a hundred feet up, and when you concentrate you can float a little higher, and by concentrating even more you carefully lower yourself to the ground for a gentle, nonfatal landing.

With your feet safely planted on the ground, you look at your surroundings. You’re standing next to a tower, at least a hundred and fifty feet tall, which you probably fell from in the first place. The buildings around you are all made of obsidian, tall and menacing, and in the distance you can see the blue glow of Skaia and the golden shimmer of Prospit, through the Veil of meteors that will eventually hurtle through the portals around Skaia and be sent back in time to Earth, and destroy the planet while you and your friends are sent into the Medium to play the game that’s currently beating you all to pulps.

Ugh, headache.

Which means…

You’re on Derse. But you’re not asleep.

You also realize, dimly, that for some reason you’re not dead.

You look down at yourself. Nope, no spire sticking out of your chest. You look perfectly healthy—and perfectly ridiculous. Somehow, your clothes have changed, and you’re wearing navy blue sweatpants and a royal blue t-shirt with the spiral pattern printed on the front. Your pants are tucked into the ugliest purple boots you’ve ever seen, and when you reach up to the hood on your head, you realize that you’re practically wearing a windsock. Ugh.

You’ve heard about something like this happening to certain players: people who died under very specific conditions, on a “quest bed,” were sort of saved by their dream selves, who took over for their real bodies and gained new powers. You suppose that’s what happened to you.

You try floating again. You hover a foot off the ground. Maybe you can get the hang of this flying thing.

But, first things first. You need to get back to your planet, where your presumably still-dead body and your probably concerned boyfriend are. You should probably tell Carter that you’re alright, too. Luckily your pajama pants have pockets, and you reach into one and pull out your phone.

**== > Zia: Console your understandably distraught boyfriend.**

\--phoenixRising [PR] began pestering teenageTombraider [TT]--

PR: carter, answer your phone.

**Author's Note:**

> aha, sorry about the pesterlogs. if someone would help me figure out the coding for those i would be grateful for a thousand years.


End file.
